


Piece me back together when I fall apart

by where_havealltheflowers_gone



Series: highschool sweethearts Stanlon [2]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mike Hanlon-centric, Pet Names, listen i just have a lot of feelings about mike being an orphan ok, reddie is background, tumblr saw it first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29547171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/where_havealltheflowers_gone/pseuds/where_havealltheflowers_gone
Summary: "Make me feel good when I hurt so bad.Barely getting mad.I'm so glad I found you."
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Mike Hanlon/Stanley Uris
Series: highschool sweethearts Stanlon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/894951
Kudos: 5





	Piece me back together when I fall apart

**Author's Note:**

> I put this on tumblr ages ago, so if you've seen parts of this before, no worries..it's still me. Also, I've found inspiration in hidden places. May be adding a million installments to this series, who knows. 
> 
> Title is from 1,2,3,4 by The Plain White T's, which is the song both Mike and Stan secretly listen to in their rooms alone while thinking of one another. 
> 
> Mike Hanlon is my baby and I just want Stan to take care of him the way he takes care of Stan.

Mike rolled out of bed in the morning and studied his carpet for a solid five minutes before his grandpa was pounding on his door.

“Wastin’ daylight, son,” he hollered.

Not your son, Mike wanted to say.

I don’t care about today’s daylight, Mike wanted to say.

Today is the last day I want to see the light of, Mike wanted to say.

“Comin’,” was what he called back instead. He picked himself up and stared in the little mirror that was bolted above his chest of drawers. He rubbed a hand over his face, noting the dark half moons under his eyes. He sighed as he dug clothes out of his dresser, barely checking to make sure they matched before sliding them on. He hooked one strap of his backpack over his shoulder in the kitchen, grabbing a piece of toast and a sip of coffee before making his way outside.

“Aren’t you gonna drive yur truck?” his grandpa shouted over to him.

Mike was already straddling his bike. “It’s a nice day,” he called back, “I wanna ride!”

His friends greeted him when he arrives at school, having biked almost five miles and hardly breaking a sweat.

His friends. They had been his friends for years, but it was still nice to think it. Stan sidled up next to him in the hall as they walked to their lockers, smiling one of his soft smiles. Mike grinned back, nothing else to it. Mike took Stan’s backpack without thinking, readjusting his own back to one shoulder, hoisting Stanley’s up on his other. He knew it had to look awkward- it sure felt weird- but it made Stan smile even wider so Mike really didn’t mind.

“You really don’t have to do that,” Stan told him in a hush.

“‘Course I do, baby,” Mike drawled. “Gotta keep a smile on that pretty face.” He reached over to bump underneath Stan’s chin with the back of his knuckles.

Stan’s cheeks turned red and he dropped his head to hide it.

“They’re so cute!” Richie yelled from his spot across the hall, leaning next to Eddie’s locker. “Look at how fucking adorable!”

Mike said, “beep, beep, Rich” -just because he knew Richie’s comment will bother Stanley- at same time Eddie snorted and said “cuter than we’ll ever be.”

Richie turned to his boyfriend in feigned horror. “Why, Edward, I’m hurt. We’re cute too.”

Eddie snorted again. “Mike carries his books. That’s more than you do for me.” He walked off, Richie in tow, bickering as usual.

Stan swung his locker open and reached over to slide his backpack off Mike’s shoulder. He met Mike’s eyes briefly. “Thanks.”

“Richie’s an idiot,” Mike said indulgently.'

Stan smirked as he straightened the books that had tilted slightly on the shelf in his locker. “That’s the understatement of the century.”

Mike glanced around the hallway briefly before dragging his fingers lightly over Stan’s forearm that was closest to him. “You look great today, by the way,” he said. “Blue is definitely your color.”

Stan watched Mike’s touch dance over his wrist for a second before Mike pulled away. He swallowed. “It’s navy. Technically.” He looked up into Mike’s eyes.

Mike smiled at him. “Navy, then,” he said softly. “You’re handsome, is my point.”

Stan’s eyes flicked down to Mike’s mouth and back to his eyes. “You too,” he said before kissing Mike quickly on the corner of his mouth. He pulled away before Mike had a chance to react.

Mike’s brought his hand up without thinking to touch his mouth momentarily. “Do I get that every time I compliment you?” he teased.

Stan pulled a notebook out of backpack and added it to the growing stack on the floor of things he needed before their next locker break. He shrugged without meeting Mike’s eyes. “I love you.”

Mike’s breath caught in his throat. “Yeah,” he answered dumbly. “I mean, I love you too. Obviously. I do,” he added quickly. A thought struck him suddenly: Stan probably remembered exactly what today was.

Just as he was thinking it, Stan met his eye again and smiled softly. “Ready?” he asked.

Mike nodded. He hooked both straps of his backpack onto his shoulders and held his arms out for Stan’s books.

Stan smiled, eyes rolling fondly, and dropped them into Mike’s hands.

Mike balanced them on one hip so he could offer his other hand to Stan. It wasn’t something Stan usually allowed, especially at school where it was guaranteed to draw a lot of attention, but Mike liked to offer anyway.

To his surprise, Stan laced their fingers together. When Mike looked to Stan’s face, he was smiling. “Just this once,” he whispered.

He definitely remembers what today is, Mike thought.

——-

“You wanna spend the night tonight?” Stan asked over lunch.

Mike was taken aback. “It’s a school night.” Stan had a strict No Slumber Parties On School Nights rule.

Stan shrugged. “Figured you wouldn’t wanna be alone.”

Mike glanced around the table, relieved to see no one was listening to their conversation. He loved his friends, he did, but he didn’t need them asking what was wrong. He had had his happy mask on all day and intended for it to stay. “I’ll be okay,” he tried to assure his boyfriend with a smile.

Stan frowned. “You wanna do something after school then?”

Mike beamed at him. “You know I do, sweetheart. What’d you have in mind?”

——– “Why didn’t you want them to know?” Stan questioned.

They were walking away from the school; Mike guiding his bike with both hands without riding it, Stan walking slowly beside him. “Want who to know what?” Mike asked, even though he knew.

Stan rolled his eyes. “You know. Why don’t you want everyone else knowing that today’s the anniversary-”

“It’s not a big deal,” Mike interjected. He was going for soft and sweet- always soft and sweet with Stan- but it came out harsh. “It just,” he tried again, voice lowered. “It just isn’t.”

Stan stopped walking, his eyes big. “Mike, it’s a huge deal. They’re your friends too. They’d wanna be there for you.”

Mike turned to look at him. He smiled. Always smiling, always happy, always carefree. No worries. “Baby,” he said, hoping to distract Stan from the subject. “Look at me, I’m fine.”

Stan frowned, looks angry. “Stop pretending you’re okay because I know you’re not,” he said.

Mike swallowed, dropped his bike so he could go to Stan. “Look,” he started, “I just really, really don’t want to talk about it. You’re right, I’m not okay. But I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Stan’s face hardened. “Don’t touch me,” he said and took a step back. “And don’t be an ass.”

Mike rolled his eyes and turned away, feeling anger at Stan that he never had before. “You’re the one being an ass, not me.”

Stan gaped at him. “What?” he asked furiously.

Mike picked up his bike and swung his leg over. He laughed, humorless and cruel. “Oh, so you’re allowed to call me names, but can’t take it when it’s the other way around?” He raised his eyebrows at Stan’s mad expression. “Whatever, I’ve got homework.” He rode off and forced himself not to look back.

\-----

“Michael! Company!”

His grandmother’s screech almost didn’t wake him from his heavy sleep. He turned over and grumbled before the words registered. He bolted upright at the timid knock on his door.

“Can I come in?” Stan asked gently, halfway in the door.

“Yeah,” Mike mumbled, hanging his feet over the edge of his bed and wiping the sleep from his eyes while Stan shut the door.

Stan lingered near the bed. “Can I sit?”

Mike felt the anger from earlier rising up in his chest and fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Yeah,” he repeated.

Stan sat, eyeing Mike in his peripheral. He picked at a hem in the bed’s quilt. “You’re still mad,” he said after a minute of silence.

Mike snorted, “you don’t miss a thing.”

Stan faced him now, eyes hard. “Why are you being like this?”

Mike shifted and pulled one leg back onto the bed, folded, so he could face Stan. “Being like what? Mad that you called me an ass?”

Stan looked embarrassed. “Not that,” he said after a beat. “I shouldn’t have… I mean, it wasn’t nice for me to…” He looked up at Mike through his eyelashes. “I’m sorry I said that.” He sighed when Mike said nothing. “You’ve never been mad at me before,” he said.

Mike chuckled and wiped a hand over his face. “Yeah, well, guess I’m not as perfect as you want me to be. Sorry about that.”

“No, it’s..” Stan paused, eyebrows bunched together. “You are…” He reached for Mike’s hand. “You’re wonderful,” he said with feeling. “I know I’m not… easy to be with sometimes. But you, you always put up with me. I don’t deserve-“

“Don’t say that,” Mike cut him off, gripping his hand. “You deserve everything. You don’t even give yourself credit for what you do for me too.”

Stan smiled gently. “I could be better.”

All the anger left Mike’s body, like a balloon when someone lets its air out slowly. He cupped Stan’s face. “You’re perfect just the way you are. I love you this way.” He dropped his hand and looked away. “My parents… the anniversary..” he trailed off. “I just can’t talk about it,” he finished, “and I need you to respect that.” He met Stan’s eyes finally. “I’ll give you anything and everything you want, Stan, but I can’t do that.”

Stan chewed on his lip a moment. “Talking about stuff always makes me feel better.”

“I’m not you, Stan. I’ve talked about it a million times. I went to counseling for two years. Talking isn’t gonna bring them back.”

Stan’s eyes went wide and Mike could see water forming in them. He wrapped himself around Mike’s neck, burying his face in Mike’s shoulder. “’M sorry,” he said, voice muffled. “I just wanted to help, but I shouldn’t have pushed it. I just thought you were shutting me out.”

Mike let his hand fall to Stan’s hips. “Baby, no. I swear I wasn’t. I’m still not. I’m sorry too. I should have just talked to you instead of running off.” He gently pulled back so he could look into the curly headed boy’s eyes. “How 'bout this? If I wanna talk about it, you’ll be my first and only call. Okay?”

Stan nodded. He darted forward to kiss Mike on the nose. “Sounds good.”

Mike smiled at him and enveloped him in a hug. “Alright. Come on,” he said when they pulled apart. “Lemme buy you some ice cream to make up for being a shitty boyfriend.”

“No,” Stan said, “I’m paying today.” He stood and grabbed Mike’s hand, pulling him to his feet. “You’re a great boyfriend. The best.”

Mike grinned at him. They stopped twice on the way there to make out in the street, not caring who saw. 

(Mike let Stan pay for the ice cream even though he didn’t want to, only because it made Stan happy. He’d do anything to make Stan happy.)


End file.
